Typing

It isn't writing at all -- it's typing.

~ Truman Capote

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The other night I was typing with my friend Rachel.  The one in Iowa.  Not the one in Chicago.  Or the one in Omaha.  Or Illinois.  Not that I wouldn't type with those Rachels.  I just wasn't.  And also, I know a lot more Rachels than I predicted I would.  Yes, I wrote that prediction on a piece of paper when I was in fifth grade and put it in an envelope and just recently opened it.

And, yes, I made up that thing about Rachel predictions.

But I digress...  Because that's what I do.

Anyway, Rachel and I were both complaining about typos in our writing back and forth.  

Me:  Stupid non-mind-reading keyboard!!

Rachel:  The keys are not keeping up with me either tonight.  I blame Mercury in retrograde.

Me:  I blame Uranus in Gatorade.

Rachel:  best. line. ever.  I will expect a blogpost forthwith.

I like being friends with Rachels.  That last line just happens to by why, good readers,  I am friends with this particular Rachel.